Miscommunications
by picimadar
Summary: It's hard to say how you really feel, but how much harder is it to get someone to understand you? A series of related oneshots showcasing different character interactions. Canon relationships, rated for language and mild sexual themes. Cover art credit unknown.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Thank you very much to all you who are still reading GW fanfiction after all this time. I am still working on _Bring Her Back_ but I really want it to be more than halfway finished before I start posting it, so bear with me a little longer on that. Here is a little aperatif in the meantime, I hope to update it once a week or so.

I'm not sure what other relationships might come up besides 1xR, or if they'll end up staying in chronological order, but I'd like to hit up the main romantic and friendship relationships at least once! The rating on this story won't change from T- for language and mild sexual themes.

As always, please enjoy the story and review, it only helps the muse (and my craft) to hear your feedback!  
-picimadar

 **Miscommunications  
** Chapter 1: Duo and Wufei  
 _Summer, AC 198_

"For the love of any and all higher powers how is it that _every single day_ we work together you ask me what I want for coffee, and I tell you, and you still, despite me ordering the same thing _every time_ , bring the _wrong goddamn thing?_ "

Duo Maxwell was glad his back was turned; he'd taken enough random office supplies to the head to know it was best if Agent Chang _didn't_ see the broad smile on his face. "Well, what can I say, _boss_? I guess it must be that public school educat- oh god dammit!"

Wufei's feet stamped strongly against the tiled floor. "Enjoy the new General Policy Manual, Maxwell. I saved that especially for you. I figure tossing it at your thick skull is about as close as you'll get to absorbing any of its contents. No need to thank me."

A string of muttered curses accompanied the rattling of the slammed door as Duo knelt to pick up the scattered papers. "Stupid godforsaken manual… as if anybody besides Captain Stick-Up-His-Ass reads these things?" Duo grasped the refilled binder with one hand and scratched his head with the other. "Wait- that's it. Corporal Stick-Up-His-Ass has probably got it memorized by now, too."

The couch he had dedicated at six months to specially 'breaking in' wheezed as Duo kicked up his feet and lounged. "Page one…. Yeah let's just not even do this." Pages flapped between his fingers. "Page 98…. 'Qualifications. Each agent will-' oh come on, you really think I'm worried about any of that? I'm Duo Maxwell!"

Chucking the manual across the room to Wufei's desk, Duo threw an elbow over his eyes and promptly started working on his early afternoon nap.

The world was crashing down on him. Dimensions were rending from each other. Somehow, the voice of the God of Death turned out to be remarkably like that of one Chang Wufei.

"Maxwell, wake the hell _up_!" The blue eyed part-time Preventer gave an unmanly shriek as he came face to face with his officemate. "We have our licensing assessments in 10 minutes. I'd suggest making yourself look presentable, but we both know what a waste of time that'd be."

Groaning, Duo stood, stretched and followed Wufei to the main concourse of their building. "Someone will be waiting to interview you down there." Duo nodded, semi-wakeful enough to spot the offices his partner indicated. "You've got all your documentation, right?"

"Docu-what?"

Wufei pulled his glasses off and rubbed his face. "Your proof of citizenship, residency, arms-handling license, certificate of completion for 12th year?"

"Uh… three out of four ain't bad, right?" Duo oophed as Wufei shoved him up against the wall.

" _What_ are you missing?"

"Welp," Duo groaned under the pressure of Wufei's grip, "I guess you could say I learned at the school of hard knocks."

"Oh for god's sake," Wufei muttered, shoving the other man back against the wall and pacing away. "It never occurred to you that _forging_ that might be a good idea?" Duo's shrug obviously did not satisfy his partner. "Well, good look then. Une's going to light you on fire for this one."

Duo did his best to blow off his paranoid friend's concerns, starting down the staircases that would lead to the concourse. There were too few steps for him to fully realize the situation he'd put himself in. Who hadn't gone to school? Everyone was mandated… and it he had missed out from the war, why hadn't he completed it by now, five years later? And then came more questions… why were there two student records under his name for the period of 195-196? Why was his birth identity number technically unregistered?

"Shit," Duo murmured, drawing the attention of two nearby agents. "Heh, I mean… It's like going through the interview process all over again, am I right?" The pair nodded politely, giving Duo a questioning look as he moved through the crowd. Spotting a familiar face, he darted over and took a seat.

"So, Heero, buddy, I bet you're just totally stoked for this whole assessment thing, huh?" His friend gave him the exact same nonplussed 'you had better be dying to be talking to me' look he almost always did.

"It's important for the organization to clarify our qualifications," Heero deadpanned, crossing his arms. The crowd milled about them, uninterested in the one conversation among dozens.

"Right, it just wouldn't do to have a bunch of undereducated weirdos taking care of the President, I guess." Duo could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck.

"It would reduce the credibility of the organization."

"And the credibility of the Foreign Minister's office too, considering they fund us. That must be real important to you." Duo knew he was off his game; his prodding about Relena didn't even elicit a light scowl from his friend. It did, however, prompt an almost unheard of smirk.

"So, you never sorted out your education certifications?"

"Nope."

"Idiot."

The pair had waited for another fifteen minutes or so before Heero's name was called. He quickly completed the interview, gathered his documents and presumably vaporized back to one of his many hiding places, only to be retrieved when there was an un-crackable code, a major security calamity, or when a certain Vice Minister seemed lonely.

Another five minutes and Duo heard a female voice call his name. Swallowing and plastering on his best 'I am facing certain death but hey, that's just Thursday for ya' face, he followed the woman into her office.

"Thank you so much for waiting, Agent Maxwell," the raven-haired woman said as she took a seat behind her desk. Duo sat in the chair she gestured to. "My name is Agent Bailey, I work with internal affairs and I'm conducting these interviews just to help clear up some… uncertainties left behind by the Preventer organizations' sudden startup during the war."

Duo nodded, already feeling the tension growing in his neck.

"Wonderful. Now, let's start with a little about where you grew up."

Duo tried his best to string out his answers, the very pretty pack of lies that they were, wondering what might happen when once they hit the inevitable. Should he tell the truth? Roll with a lie that he forgot his diploma and wait until they took the time to fact check? Duo's normally relaxed smile became tighter as the Agent Bailey covered more and more of his history, until the inevitable happened.

"No, Agent Maxwell," she said, pausing her rapid typing. "Do you have your proof of citizenship and diploma from your final year? I understand some of the schools in certain colony clusters have different policies and curricula, which is why we have to ask."

Duo rubbed a hand against his neck. It came back damp. "Heh, well, you see lady-"

"Duo, you damn moron." The door had breezed open and there stood Wufei. "How many times are you going to leave all your shit in my office?" He gracelessly threw a porfolio of papers at Duo's head, which the seated pilot snatched out of the air. "Next time, I'm just going to light them on fire."

The door slammed shut and Duo quickly opened the portfolio. Among several other documents Duo had already submitted the real version of, which made them elaborate fakes, was a beautifully forged diploma.

"Damn," he whispered, picking up the paper and checking it out. A perfect fake, down to the gold leaf and seal from a senior school he had definitely never heard about.

"Agent Maxwell?"

"Ah, geez, sorry, sorry." Duo passed her the diploma and quickly closed the portfolio before she could ask about the rest of the contents.

"Well, I believe that actually concludes all the questions I have for you, Agent Maxwell." Agent Bailey stood and shook his hand, wishing him a good day.

Duo nearly sprinted back to his office, finding Wufei, Trowa and Heero all lounging around, talking. "Oh so naturally y'all become a bunch of 'chatty cathy's' when I'm not around!" He threw himself back into his seat from that morning, tossing the portfolio onto a coffee table. The room promptly went silent. "Oh for god's sake guys-"

"How was your interview?" Trowa asked, covering a smile with his coffee mug. "Owe anybody some favours?"

Duo sat back up and eyed the men he was sitting with; each one of them wore their own version of a 'we got you, didn't we?' expression. "You… you guys all did these for me?"

"I had considered covering it on my own but knowing how intolerable you are to deal with one-on-one, I figured we didn't have much time before that interviewer would have just about kicked you out," Wufei supplied, smirking. Duo went to stick his tongue out at his partner, but changed his mind.

"Why? Christ, man, if I'm such a pain in the ass just get someone else reassigned up here! That was like your golden ticket!"

"Believe me, we thought about it," Heero murmured, not looking up from his tablet. Duo did feel free to stick his tongue out at him.

"In the end, it comes down to everybody's odds," Wufei said, turning and going to sit behind his desk. "If we didn't help you, our unit of 5 has to pick up somebody else. Can you imagine what idiot they could have replaced you with?"

Duo picked up a faint shudder of horror from Heero and Trowa. "So… you did it to make sure your next partner isn't an even bigger idiot?"

Trowa sighed, standing and stretching. "We did it to make sure this unit stays as strong as possible. Besides," he said, picking up his coffee and leaving the office, "who says you're not going to need to prove your education somewhere else?"

"He means when you inevitably get fired," Heero murmured again, following his friend out of the office. Duo threw some lively insults at him before looking at his watch.

"Well, I gotta head out too, I guess. Lots to get done today." Wufei nodded, still inspecting his email account and typing away. Duo sighed when he hit the door and turned back to his partner. "Hey, Wufei?" The other man glanced up. "Thanks. It means a lot that you'd do that."

"Don't mention it."

"Oh come on dude, there's no need to be humble-"

"No, Maxwell," Wufei ground out, glaring at the other man. "I get your gratitude and you better believe we're going to call back on this favour. What I mean, right now, is that if you keep talking I'm going to waste valuable work hours chasing you down and killing you."

Duo gracelessly turned and lurched out of the office, leaving his partner in blessed silence to continue his work.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The muse seems to be with me, and so I write. Expect a few more updates to this over the next week or so; I've got a chunk of time off and lots of ideas.

I'll be adding this to the main summary, but I've decided to use Miscommunications as a companion to my upcoming multi-chapter story. You can still read Miscommunications without reading the other one, and you can still read each chapter as a one-shot (although they work best if seen as all within the same universe).

Anyways! Keep an eye out for some new stuff and thanks so much for reading- and reviewing! It's the perfect motivator (ask Silvia S.K. haha).

 **Miscommunications  
** Chapter 2: Wufei and Heero

Fall, early AC 199

Over two years had passed since the aftershocks of the Eve War truly began to fade, their energies dispersed into many smaller rumblings. These murmurs and skirmishes were left to the Preventers to handle- which is why the two of them were holed up.

Wufei and Heero had had their fundamental differences of opinion, conflicting over personal mantras, political values, their purpose as ex-soldiers, and who _really_ made the superior mid-sized rocket launcher.

"I don't get why _they_ get to go," Duo had whined, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and ignoring Commander Une's death glare. "I could be _great_ at covert ops!"

"No." The rest of the room spoke.

"But I-"

"No."

"Aww, come on, Heero and I are best buds! We could totally pull this off."

"Do I need authorization to shoot him?" the 'best bud' deadpanned.

"When he's on my new couch, you do." Une lost her patience, throwing a stapler at the offending team member. " _They_ are going because this is _covert ops_ , and unlike you they know how to communicate without dialing everything up to 11."

It was true. Heero and Wufei had occupied the tiny, decrepit apartment for ten days now, monitoring a major group of dissidents in the local area. They had shared approximately 25 minutes of total conversation each day, most of which was related to their mission.

Heero was uncertain why knowing that fact bothered him, but he shrugged the thought away as Wufei spoke. "If you're all the way in South Africa for college, what are you doing here right now?"

Heero continued typing, pulling off half his headset. "I've already finished all the coursework for this semester."

Wufei scoffed and shook his head before fixating back on his data analysis. He only glanced up again as Heero held a beer in his peripheral.

Wufei raised a brow, one that meant either 'on the job, really?' or 'we're underage, in case you forgot'. Heero returned a look of his own, one Wufei correctly interpreted as 'you're kidding me, right?' and he took the beer.

Lifting their drinks at the same time, the two silently saluted each other before returning to their work. Their targets were anywhere but at the apartments they had infiltrated and bugged weeks before, leaving them to jointly work on their report. Wufei would write a note on their shared documentation, and Heero would reply. Back and forth, they worked and waited in a shared, comfortable silence.

Heero's posture went quickly rigid, motioning for Wufei to equip his own headset. Their eyes met as they listened; Wufei turned away, typing furiously on his computer while Heero operated their different cameras and microphones, trying to perfect their view of the growing hoard of illegal weapons in the apartment across the hall.

There was arguing, drugs, bragging, more drugs- the 'usual' as far as Preventer knew about this particular clan. Wufei shook his head and pulled of his headphones, furrowing his brow and signing. 'Veterans' of the Eve War were their most common source of conflict now; unable to stop fighting, they would inevitably end up the cause of further battles unless quickly and decisively squashed.

The pair sat in a different kind of silence now; time somehow seemed slower and Heero could feel the dull thud of his heart in his chest, the blood surging in his ears. It was a heavy, thick kind of silence and one that was only broken when the pair happened to meet eyes again over the tops of their laptop screens.

It wasn't something either of them wanted to talk about; the nearly-but-not-quite blank looks on their faces made that very clear.

Hours passed and the artificial daylight of the colony began to wane as scheduled. Wufei made a quick meal; he'd taken over cooking after the first night when Heero had presented his usual, nutritionally adequate fare. While he was no stranger to complaints about his cooking, the look Wufei had produced after trying his concoction could only be described as completely revolted.

Relena had employed her usual grace and suffered through his cooking the first few times. The fourth time, she'd arrived with an armload of simple foods she and Pagan had prepared. And the recipes.

Wufei had learned to decipher Heero's particular episodes of glazed-over, semi-present thoughts over the past ten days, and this particular one needed to be derailed. As he opened his mouth, Heero jolted and scrambled for the AV equipment controls.

A wide-eyed, hyperfocused, automatically-acting Heero could only mean there'd been specific talk from their surveilled apartment. Wufei pulled on his headset, smirking eagerly.

"-and so that's what I told him. This bitch Darlian needs to get what's coming to her." Heero ignored the mocking arched brow from his partner, narrowing his eyes and isolating the speaker on their monitors. "I'd rather be dead than have to listen to one more word outta some useless rich girl's mouth."

"You got any idea what it'd take to even get a shot on her?" a second man said, swigging from a liquor bottle. "You might get one damn shot and even then, they'd catch ya."

"You'd make such a _pretty_ martyr though, Rus," a younger man mocked the supposed leader, earning him a kick to his stomach that sent him tumbling into the corner. Heero looked expectantly at Wufei, who made no attempt to hide his annoyance. Preventer would be notified of the potential threat, however insignificant Wufei thought it was.

"Hey, boss-"

"Shut the hell up, Sig, I swear to you I'll kick your ass."

"But boss there's a hole-"

Both Heero and Wufei simultaneously reached into the desks next to them, pulled out handguns, loaded them and began backing up their surveillance data.

"The fuck do you mean, a hole?"

"Oh, a hole in this dump, you don't say! Next he'll be letting us know the sun in the sky's a fake!"

Rus was on the move, peering over to where Sig was pointing. Heero looked right into the face of the man though the camera they had found, fighting the raging impulse to jump across the hall and ram his head into the wall. "The fuck is this… it's a fucking camera! God fucking dammit!"

The room was a flurry of movement, cursing and swearing and the metallic clicks of weapons being loaded. "We've got to get all this shit out of here!"

"You think there's time for that? Use your head, you idiot! If they're watching us it means they're ready to spring on us any time!"

The eldest man froze and turned back on Sig. "For once, you morons came up with the right idea." Wufei and Heero looked at each other again, each one able to see the inevitable. "They would be waiting to spring on us- and that means they're here in this building." Rus began to pace, laughing to himself. "Well come on then, boys! We've got enough firepower to knock off half this fucking colony. We can take on some Preventer prettyboys," he spat, tossing guns to the remaining men in the room. "Let's go get em!"

Heero had already wrenched off his headset, finished his backup, hid the explosion-proof drive in a compartment in the floor and had his gun in his hand and a clip tucked into his waistband. Wufei stood against the opposite wall, looking down the short hallway to the front door.

Their eyes met again, both taking in the laughter and hollering from the other apartment. A grimace, a frustrated sigh, a curt nod. They had a plan. Wufei stepped out, hesitated a second and flung open their door, preparing to make a quick getaway down the right corridor. Heero stepped out beside him, took two strides to the door of the opposite apartment and kicked it in violently.

Wufei took exactly one second to gape. That was most certainly _not_ the plan.

The resulting reaction from the gathering of men was predictable. Shocked yelling and the hesitation of men who hadn't held a gun in years gave Heero ample time to disable three of the ten men. He dove behind a weathered couch just as Wufei stepped into the main room. Gunfire started as Heero quickly computed the situation. Only four men were now conscious, and Wufei clearly had on his body armor. Heero smirked to himself; they should have just done this a week ago.

He sprang from behind the couch and threw the seventh man to the ground, punching him twice in the head before the man lost consciousness. The two ex-pilots shared a mutual look of nearly disappointed frustration; it was plain these men hadn't been to the front lines, let alone if they had seen any actual battle at all. The two young men had managed to incapacitate them all without firing a single shot. Heero didn't have to keep his attention on Wufei to know that his slow head shake specially reserved for cowards would be in full effect.

Rus stood in the corner holding a high-powered rifle and laughing to himself. "Ah, you two. I was wondering when Darlian's lapdogs would show up." Heero sensed the only other conscious man and quickly swung to knock him out before brandishing his own gun at the leader. "Ah now, we both know you won't be doing that. You aren't going to hurt me at all."

Wufei barked a laugh, staring at the insurgent down the barrel of his gun.

"I mean it now, boys. If you've been listening to us, you must know." Rus lowered his gun and sat down nonchalantly on the sofa. He grinned at Heero, who glared back intently. "This must have made such a great vacation for you, huh? At least you didn't have to deal with that bourgeois bitch yanking your leashes."

The Preventer agent shifted his gaze to Heero. Neither of them could afford to lose their control of the situation. "Tell us if there are more of you coming."

Rus simply smiled. "Oh no. The rest of my men are quite busy." His head lolled back to Heero. "You may both need to start thinking of some alternative employment options."

Heero had lunged toward Rus and hoisted him to his feet with his free hand. "Tell us what you're planning, now!" he barked. Just as he let go of Rus so he could punch the smile off his face, the older man swung his gun and fired four shots. Heero could feel the heat of the gun on his hands as he wrenched it away from Rus and tossed it out of his reach.

Wufei was sitting on the ground, a small pool of blood creeping from under his thigh. Yet again they exchanged glances, Wufei sending Heero one so poisonously angry it couldn't be misinterpreted.

When Heero turned back around, Rus stopped laughing. The young man's eyes were narrowed as he looked down the barrel of his gun. "This is your last chance," Heero murmured. "Start talking."

It was clear there was no escaping the situation, yet Rus tried. "There's no plan," he began backpedaling, "I swear." He tried to step back, eyes wide as Heero advanced on him.

"Don't you dare lie to me."

"You, you can't- there's nothing going on, it was just to stall you!" Rus could feel the sweat trickling down his neck. "You're Preventer. You can't kill me. You can't do shit to me."

"I'm not a Preventer." Heero knocked Rus out with the butt of his gun, letting him fall heavily onto the floor.

In a matter of minutes, their backup had arrived. Fellow agents began arresting the present members of the faction and clearing the store of illicit weapons. Duo whistled as he walked into the room, observing the bullet holes in the walls and the one in his fellow agent's leg. "Man guys, what the hell happened in here?"

Both men spoke at the same time. "This was _not_ part of the plan." "We handled it." Wufei didn't even look in Heero's direction as he scoffed loudly in disgust and began muttering about general incompetence and inability to compartmentalize a personal life.

"Man, you two need to talk," Duo joked as he helped Wufei to his feet, "really, like _actually_ just talk. Sheesh."

"We should have just brought you along. You talk enough for all three of us," Heero muttered.

Wufei winced and cursed as Duo swung them both around. "You know what? How many agents have been shot working surveillance missions with me, hmm? Oh, sorry, I forgot it's pointless to ask you since you _don't talk_." It was the last words he managed to get in before Heero took over and helped Wufei to the waiting ambulance.

Heero rode in the ambulance with Wufei, occasionally passing him supplies to reinforce the dressing on his thigh. "I'm sorry," he finally said as he stripped the wrapping off a clean piece of gauze.

"It's fine, Yuy."

"No," he sighed, "it's not. I let my f- I let my personal life impact my judgement. We never should have gone in there without backup."

Wufei chuckled quietly as he taped down the last edge. "I should have known. I have to say, you're getting pretty predictable when it comes to her." He smirked at Heero's glare before his gaze sobered. "We both knew better. I should have made sure where your head was at."

"And I should have known what your protocol was."

The two nodded and Wufei sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I can't believe that idiot was right."

" _I'm_ sure as hell not going to tell him."

Wufei chuckled and grinned wryly. "So, since we're doing all this _talking_ , I've got to ask- are you avoiding her?"

Heero leaned back against the bench and sullenly crossed his arms. "There's no way in hell I'm talking about that."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This update has taken for-frigging-ever and I apologise. School tried to murder me, however I have emerged victorious from my second bachelor's degree and now have a BSc in Nursing! I am studying for my licensing test and otherwise have time on my hands, so I'm hoping to update this a little bit before starting to post _Bring Her Back_.

A/N2: As a reminder, all of these 'oneshots' are loosely related and take place in the same 'plot universe' as _Bring Her Back_ will. None of them contain spoilers for the other story, they're mostly just elaborate head-canony things I didn't want to shoehorn into the 'main story' but still wanted to write.

Hopefully that makes sense. If not, enjoy anyway. Please review!

-picimadar

 **Miscommunications**  
Chapter 3: Relena and Dorothy  
 _A.C. 200, Early Spring_

Relena sat at her vanity and watched the blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. It took a lot to embarrass her, but for some reason anticipation still caused her heart to race out of turn. The last time this had happened, Relena had been pinned between a wall and a mildly inebriated and _very_ uninhibited Heero Yuy.

The blush worsened and Relena tossed her hairbrush down in frustration. _That_ blush had been exhilarating and hadn't faded even after she'd tried and utterly failed to return to her gala table seat without being noticed. _This_ blush washed out of her face as she heard her name being called.

"Relena darling, are you ready to go?"

Relena was certain she may never be ready, and that she may also never remember what had possessed her to agree that Dorothy should organize this 'girl's night'. The young politician glanced at herself in the mirror, internally muttered what could pass as a wartime motivational speech, and followed Dorothy to her waiting limo.

"Are you sure you're feeling quite alright, Relena?" Pressing the back of her hand to Relena's forehead, Dorothy pursed her lips. "You look a little piqued."

"I'm fine. It's just been a bit of a long day… I've had a lot on my mind." Relena grimaced to herself while Dorothy _tsk_ ed and slid into the cab before her; it continued to be a fool's errand to try and slip a deception past Dorothy. Relena tried not to look visibly startled as Dorothy skipped her usual interrogation and changed the subject.

"You know, that dress is simply _not_ what I'd expected you to wear," Dorothy murmured, looking Relena over thoughtfully. Relena braced herself for Dorothy's criticism. Without a known 'dress code', she'd settled on a light blue, close-fitting dress; it was short for so early in the spring and hit inches above her knees and the front and back necklines both scooped deeply. Relena had hoped the sleeves would compensate for the other bare skin. "I suppose it's not often you get to wear anything _fun_. I had no idea you'd even own something like that."

Relena sighed in relief and nodded. "I hope that it's alright, I wasn't sure where we were going."

"I've booked us a table at _Le Chien Noir_."

"That's my favour-"

"-Oh, I know," Dorothy purred, turning to look out the window. "It's one of mine as well, I'm sure the other girls are going to _adore_ it. Thanks to your prolonged primping session, they should already be waiting for us." The older woman laughed as Relena scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh come now princess, you know the importance of being fashionably late as well as I do."

"Then don't blame it on _me_!"

The other ladies were indeed waiting at the round table already, waving as their friends surrendered their coats to the wait-staff and joined them. Relena took an empty seat next to Hilde, giving her a quick hug and waving to Sally and their visiting friend, Catherine. Sally had brought a friend and coworker, Aria, a dark woman with thick, curly hair and wide brown eyes.

"Mariemaia sends her regrets, but it's a school night," Dorothy joked, taking the remaining seat next to Relena. "I'm so glad you could all make it; I know most of you have never been here before but I'm certain you'll just love it."

They all began chatting while a pianist across the room began to play in the background. Relena paused mid conversation with Dorothy and Aria, smiling to herself. "You like this song?" Aria asked, accepting a glass of red wine from one of their waiters.

"It's one of my favourites, actually… Oh, may I- ah…" Relena looked at the waiter confusedly as he placed a glass of white wine in front of her.

"A 10-year _Chevalier-Montrachet_ chardonnay, Vice Minister."

"Good grief," Relena heard Catherine murmur to Hilde, "I couldn't even pronounce that just to order it." They both laughed, and Relena took a tentative sip of her unordered drink. Naturally, it was perfect; the wine was difficult to procure, and Relena decided to savour it.

The dinner progressed as the women shared stories, cooing over pictures of Hilde's new niece and laughing as Sally and Aria shared work stories. Dorothy watched Relena stare into her wineglass as the women started grilling Catherine for details of her pending wedding. She was just reaching out to touch Relena's shoulder when the waiters returned with their main course.

Startled, Relena stammered a thank-you to the waiter as he took her soup bowl and replaced it with braised lamb. As she set her wineglass down, Relena glanced around the table. She was the only one eating lamb, and Dorothy's soup had been something red unlike her own vichyssoise. "Why is mine… different?"

"Hmm?" Dorothy murmured as she drank from her glass.

"You've all had the same things to eat," Relena pressed. "Why is mine different?"

Dorothy sighed and waved a hand. "Don't worry about it, it's your favourite place after all, they should know what you like to order."

"Yes, but-"

"Are you not enjoying it?" Dorothy flashed a look of concern before Relena shook her head. "Well then, what's the matter?"

"Why?"

The other women at the table had gone quiet, worriedly watching the pair's repartee.

"Dorothy wanted to put something special together for you, 'Lena," Hilde started.

"Well, someone had to do _something_ ," Dorothy muttered, turning to meet Relena's glare.

"Just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You haven't been yourself." "You've been useless." Hilde and Dorothy both glared, trying to speak over the other. The others looked on as Relena became more and more agitated.

"The only time you ever act like this is when you've flipped from being obsessed about work to obsessing over something or _someone_ else," Dorothy continued. "You've become distracted and edgeless. It doesn't wear well on any young woman, least of all you."

Relena brows were knit together, and she frowned and wrinkled her nose. Sally, Aria, Catherine and Hilde all took deep swigs from their wineglasses. Aria beckoned desperately for a refill as Dorothy continued.

"You don't believe me? It took two courses for you to even realize you were on a completely different menu than anyone else! You only take interest in the people around you when you come out of your little self-imposed rumination cycle."

"And the only time _you_ take any interest in _me_ is to undermine or criticise me! What purpose you could _possibly_ have for doing this besides trying to humiliate me in front of my friends?" Relena stood up from the table, tossing her napkin down on it. "I have no idea what we are, Dorothy, but we are _not_ friends."

The observers winced as Relena stalked to the door, requested her jacket as politely as she could muster and fled the restaurant. The air outside was cool enough to take the flame off of her infamous temper and allow her embarrassment, sadness and self-consciousness take centre stage. Looking up through teary eyes, she impulsively flagged down a taxi.

"Relena!" she heard Dorothy call, and Relena ignored her. "Relena you _lunatic_ ," the older woman chastised, "if you get into that taxi, Une will kill us both!" Relena had already opened the door and was halfway inside as Dorothy grabbed onto the sleeve of her jacket and heaved. Once Relena had finished gracelessly stumbling out onto the sidewalk, she was furious.

"Leave me _alone_ , dammit!" Relena wrenched her arm from the other woman's grip. Dorothy glanced down the lamp-lit street, spotted two photographers making their way over, and made a judgement call. Shoving Relena into the cab, she climbed in next.

"The _Lion and Lamb_ please, and I'll pay you double if you make sure no one follows us," Dorothy instructed the driver. He grunted in response and took off.

"Dorothy, what the _hell-_ "

"Well, where were _you_ going to go, alone, in a _taxi_?"

"I'm rich and a woman, not an _idiot_. I was going to go _home_!"

Dorothy tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Well, now you're not. You're coming out with me."

"Don't have much of a choice," Relena muttered, slouching into her seat and looking out the window. They travelled through Brussels, finally reaching an intersection of streets Relena had never known to exist. On one corner stood a traditionally styled brick building with a large porch. At the front of the porch was an unassuming sign, a painting of the titular animals curled up together. The _Lion and Lamb_.

"A _bar_ ," Relena scoffed. "It's not safe for me to go directly to my own house, so you bring me to a bar?"

Dorothy waved off her complaints dismissively, paid the taxi driver and pushed Relena out the door. Stranded in an unfamiliar neighbourhood, Relena had little choice but to follow Dorothy inside. Despite being in an outlying neighbourhood and looking a little dilapidated to passers-by, the interior of the _Lion and Lamb_ was a clean, classic pub. Dorothy lead her past the bar into a booth at the back, seemingly unabashed by being in the place let alone with the famed Vice Foreign Minister in tow. She flashed the bartender two fingers; Relena watched curiously as the bartender knowingly nodded and turned away.

Relena felt the eyes of a few patrons on her back as she took off her jacket, and she wished she'd worn something more conservative. "You don't have to act like a fugitive," Dorothy murmured, "nobody in here will say anything about us."

Relena and Dorothy sat in an uncomfortable silence; Dorothy's thumbs tapped away furiously at her cellphone while Relena tried to keep from looking around and drawing attention to herself. "Good lord, this trade deal between the L2 colonies is an utter catastrophe," Dorothy commented, eyes still fixated on her phone. "What exactly is wrong?"

"Oh, well… The representative from X-26—"

"I meant with _you_ ," Dorothy clarified, placing her phone down as the bartender placed two glasses of wine in front of them. Once they had privacy again, she continued. "The only thing that returns you to your angsty teenaged self is something going on with a certain zero-one, and with trade deals and civil rights bargains this tenuous you can't _afford_ to behave like this. Don't you dare try to tell me it's because you're 'tired' or some such ridiculously pathetic lie."

"Duo says Heero has a girlfriend…" Relena offered, but it was rejected.

"He says that every single time you ask about Heero, and it's never once been the truth. You _know_ that, Relena, now stop holding out on me and tell me what is wrong."

Relena sighed heavily, playing with the pendant on her necklace and developing a deep, unwavering interest in the bottom of her glass. She had just convinced herself she would definitely _not_ cry in public when the bartender stole the glass out of her hand and replaced it with a full one. She didn't trust herself to say 'thank you' without wavering, and the older man stalked away before she could try.

Dorothy idly doodled on her napkin while her companion stared at the new drink. After sipping her own she had just decided to continue prodding when Relena spoke.

"I know he's here." Dorothy's calm exterior froze briefly, her eyes darting up to clarify Relena's meaning. "He's been in the city for ten days, and he hasn't… he never even told me he was coming." Relena's throat started to feel full and she took a full gulp of her drink. "I know he doesn't… it's not as though he _owes_ me that or something… but it's been months. He never calls, he almost never answers my messages…" Relena threw her head back, trying to blink back tears. "If this isn't… If _I'm_ not what he wants anymore, I wish he'd just tell me."

Dorothy watched the other blonde break down until her last words were just a whisper. "Relena... He's _always_ made sure to come and see you when he's in Europe at all. I'm sure he has a good reason." Dorothy mentally slapped herself when she saw the look on Relena's face and realised she had been caught.

"Even _you_ have talked to him," Relena ground out. "So what is all this then, some attempt to assuage your guilt?"

"I have _not_ spoken to him, and almost never do for the record," Dorothy spat before clawing back her composure. "Relena, we've been spending more and more time together since I became a Representative, and I've been able to see that lately you just aren't yourself."

"Distractible and edgeless?"

Dorothy cringed. "I didn't-"

"Well, it's true." Relena finished the last of her drink, feeling the warmth of it spreading through her body.

"Just because it's true doesn't mean it's necessary to say," Dorothy replied, "and before you think it, yes, it _is_ something a therapist told me." Relena gave a tentative laugh before Dorothy joined her, finishing her own drink. When she set her glass back down, her serious visage had returned. "I'm sorry, Relena."

"You don't have to be," Relena sighed. "You can't have been the only one who noticed. I hate that this could impact my job… I feel like such a…"

"Completely normal young woman?"

"Completely normal young women have friends who aren't 55 year-old men desperate for her vote."

Dorothy rolled her eyes. "Friends who do things like force them to a night off with their other friends? Make sure they have all their favourite foods? Books a _string quartet_ to play their favourite songs? Negotiates with _Duo Maxwell_ to steal her music library to even _know_ what those songs are? Keeps her from getting in a strange car in a strange neighbourhood?"

Every point on Dorothy's list only made Relena feel more remorseful.

"Relationships change, Relena, and when that's natural sometimes you can't even tell," Dorothy countered. After considering for a moment, she reached across the table and took Relena's hand. "That might be what's happening with you and Heero, too. Maybe he sees something you don't, and maybe that freaks him out." Relena was still somewhat stunned at Dorothy's act of comfort and stared at their hands.

"Maybe."

Dorothy smiled. "You knew the day you got involved with him that it was going to be a different kind of battle, for both of you." Relena nodded. "Let him figure it out, and if he leaves without talking to you, then ask him about it. Either way, Relena… you have friends, and we're here to listen, we _want_ to listen, but you have to actually talk to us."

Relena felt her expression crumble as she met Dorothy's eyes. "I'm so sorry, Dorothy. I had no idea. Ever since the war I've tried to connect with my old friends, or other women, but it's just been impossible." She rolled her eyes, her expression pained. "I know that's my own problem, but it's just _lonely_."

"Just why we've got to stick together, my dear." Dorothy gave Relena's hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. "It's no different than all those _boys…_ if we don't look after each other, who will?" Relena smiled and nodded, pulling on her jacket.

"This was… well. I won't say _nice_ ," Relena smiled slightly as Dorothy chuckled, "but it was real. And this place," Relena turned and took in the place as Dorothy cringed again, "is magnificently average."

The two women laughed and walked to the door as Relena talked about finally being free of people recognizing her and asking her for her autograph or the press following her around. No one in the pub noticed as Dorothy slipped her pen-marked napkin in front of a particular young man as he drank alone.

 _She knows you're here._

 _You're losing her._


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Main storyline still in progress. I'm doing Camp NaNo and hoping to have it near complete by the end of the month. For now, enjoy this little update.

A/N2: As a reminder, all of these 'oneshots' are loosely related and take place in the same 'plot universe' as _Bring Her Back_ will. None of them contain spoilers for the other story, they're mostly just elaborate head-canony things I didn't want to shoehorn into the 'main story' but still wanted to write.

 **Miscommunications  
** Chapter 4: Trowa and Relena  
Spring, A.C. 200

"But you have the best 'poker face' of any of us!"

Trowa continued to stare listlessly out the window of Wufei Chang's office.

"See? You _have_ to do this, Barton or we-"

"Pretty sure that's _your_ problem, you know." Trowa glanced over at the small group of uniformed Preventers in the doorway. "Can't you just make her?"

Duo and Wufei both scoffed loudly; Duo groaned and threw himself into one of the available chairs. " _Make_ her do it, he says!"

"You really don't know anything about her, do you, Barton?" Wufei muttered, sitting in his desk chair and running a hand through his jet-black hair.

Trowa remained stony, only his green eyes moving back to the window. "Why would I?"

Three other members of Relena's security team remained standing by the door; one young, brunette woman stepped forward. "Please, you know that she has to be licensed but there's just no way we can… How are we supposed to say "Here, Vice-Minster… just _pretend_ to shoot this fake person in the face for us, real quick"?!"

Trowa smiled slightly and crossed one leg over the other. "Not my problem… why don't you just lie to her?"

Duo laughed out loud and Wufei rolled his eyes. " _Lie_ to _Relena Darlian_?" Duo practically shouted. "Jesus Christ, Trowa. You think we wouldn't have tried that? _We_ can't lie to her," Duo said, throwing his boot-clad feet up onto the edge of Wufei's desk, "but she doesn't know _you_."

The other man shrugged. "It's not my problem you're cowards- no, no," he said, holding up his hands as Wufei stood, "please, tell me about your almighty rank and decision."

"I _do_ outrank you, and as of right now this _is_ your problem, whether you like it or not. Get out there, and get her licensed."

Trowa breezed past the remainder of Vice Foreign Minister Darlian's inactive security team and made his way out of Preventer Headquarters, ensuring he was well out of sight of Agent Chang's office before he allowed a scowl to take over his features. Relena Darlian was a mystery to him. "For good reasons, too," he muttered to himself, picking up his assigned armored car. The onboard navigation chirped his new charge's location to him, and thanks to light traffic and a lead foot he arrived at the ESUN compound early to meet his new 'assignment'.

Trowa idled the car where he'd been instructed to pick _her_ up; he grimaced to himself momentarily before opening his personal phone and thumbing through a few messages. All at once, he nearly fumbled his phone as Vice Minister Relena Darlian threw herself into the passenger seat and slammed the door. "Shit!" she breathed, "get us out of here, quick!" Trowa threw the car in gear and drove off, exiting the pick-up area and heading into the traffic of Brusells. A quick glance provided him a little more context; Relena was looking back out the side window, huffing slightly. No blood, he noted, no injuries, just one obviously pissed-off young woman. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, turning her blue eyes on him. "I don't think we've actually met before… You're Trowa Barton." He nodded. "I'm Relena."

Trowa nodded again, turning his eyes back to the road. He could see Relena continuing to stare at him from the edge of his vision; she turned away after a moment and looked out the window. "I know it's a lot to ask, but if we could head to Sanq I would prefer that."

Trowa wordlessly altered the destination on his onboard navigation to the Darlian's estate. Relena glanced back at him, her expression unreadable, and she awaited questions he had no intention of asking. They passed the hours-long drive in silence, Relena eventually losing interest in the view outside as the sky grew dark and turning her attention back to him.

The 'retired' Gundam pilot refused to be unnerved by her very obvious assessment, stoically keeping his attention on the road. Finally, as they crept up the mansion's long driveway, she nodded her head to herself. Trowa almost sighed with relief as she looked away- but then, she spoke.

"Do you drink?"

"Pardon?" he felt himself ask, parking the car, trying to shake off the feeling of growing pressure between his eyebrows.

"Liquor. Do you drink it?"

Trowa shrugged, then felt himself gasp quietly as Relena stepped out of the car, quickly turning to enter the house from their large garage. "Wait," he called, throwing open his own door, "you can't-"

Relena ignored him, entering the house and discarding her jacket. Trowa scrambled to keep up with her, his mind screaming at him to pull her back and ensure there were no threats inside the house. "What are you doing?" he seethed, following her into a darkened side room.

"Getting a drink," she murmured. She poured two glasses of dark liquor from a cabinet in the corner as Trowa activated the nearby lights.

He turned toward her, glaring. "Just what are yo-" he stopped as she pressed the second glass into his hand. "I'm on duty!"

Relena shrugged. "To protect me from what?" she asked, gesturing lazily around the empty room. "Ah, ah," she tutted, "Wufei may outrank you, but I outrank _everybody_ and I certainly won't be caught dead drinking alone." Trowa continued to glance between her and the glass in his hand, bewildered. "Really," she continued, a vague smile crossing her lips. "I insist." She quickly downed her glass and poured a second before leaving the room, her high-heeled steps echoing off the high ceilings of the empty mansion.

Trowa's mind continued to blare alarms as he followed her, self-conscious of the glass of liquor in his hand and how that pressured feeling spread from his forehead to the middle of his back, gnawing at him. The tall young man sighed, giving his glass of whisky a dark look before swirling it, downing the glass, grabbing the bottle and following Relena.

He found her sitting in the large kitchen and approached her slowly before thinking twice and leaning on the doorframe instead. She'd kicked her shoes off and was carefully shedding her sparse jewelry; she ran a hand along the back of her long neck before she began to work on her hair, pulling out a few pins and unwrapping the smooth, dark blonde strands before shaking it out and letting it trail along her back. Relena held a hand out to Trowa who stood, temporarily transfixed, before she beckoned him with her hand again. "The bottle, Trowa," she murmured, leaning against her hand and smiling.

He climbed onto the stool next to her, keeping the bottle from her and taking her glass instead. "Do you do this every time?" Trowa asked, watching her from the corner of his eye as he poured her a new drink.

"Do what?"

Trowa expected a coy glance, another smile, sipping her drink as she played with her hair; Relena simply met his gaze, unreadable. Eventually she broke their tiny staring contest, scoffing to herself quietly as she slid off her stool and walked to the fridge. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, pressing her glass against the ice dispenser. "I get too carried away, sometimes."

"Carried away by what?" The agent asked, watching the ice fall into her too-full glass, liquor spilling onto her skin. He thought he heard her cuss under her breath as she grabbed a dishcloth, cleaning the small mess.

"I don't often get this sort of opportunity," she said, "to meet someone who doesn't want anything from me." She smiled at him again, opting to slide onto the stool opposite him at the kitchen island. "It occurs to me that I'm just coming across as incredibly weird."

"So why care?" Trowa swigged from his glass as he took out his mobile phone, reviewing motion sensors and cameras from around the building. "It's not like anyone else is around."

"I'm curious about you," she said, leaning on an elbow again. "To be honest, there's actually something _I_ want from _you_ , but I'm not sure how to go about getting it."

"Are you always this roundabout? Just ask," Trowa muttered, continuing to read his phone. He glanced up as he heard her laugh, watching her lips part over perfectly white teeth as she took another drink.

"I tend to be," she admitted, continuing to smile. "I actually want your opinion of me, but it doesn't seem you have any problem offering it."

"Why would I?" His brow furrowed and he felt the not-quite-headache returning.

He watched as Relena reached over the marble countertop to top off her glass and his. "Most people seem… afraid of me, in one way or another." He met her gaze again, feeling the tension run through his chest another time.

"Yeah," he laughed to himself, flicking through the third floor's camera feeds, "your staff has themselves just about terrified over you."

"They said that to you?" she felt the pitch of her voice rise as her throat constricted and fought to get it under control. "What… why?"

"They want you to get licensed to carry and operate a handgun," Trowa said. "Seems they think you'll have a filibuster lined up for why you won't be doing that." He snuck a glance at her again; frowning, brow furrowed, looking like she had the argument cocked and ready for him, too.

" _That's_ why?" Trowa muttered an affirmation and put his phone down. "You don't find it hypocritical that someone working for disarmament would be licensed to carry a gun?"

"No," he said resolutely. "If you want to try and take a 'right' away from people, the least you can do is understand what it means to exercise it. Besides," he added, "the people who aren't afraid of you seem to mostly want you dead. It probably wouldn't be a bad thing to know how to use a gun, if you value your life."

Relena set her glass down and let out a long, light, gasping laugh, pressing a hand to her chest. "I can use a gun."

"You still have to prove it."

Her pink lips pursed again and she took another sip. "Ask Une. I can use a gun."

Trowa raised one eyebrow but stayed resolute. "You still have to demonstrate it on a test, the same as anyone else." He leaned over the island on his arm, smiling at her conspiratorially. "Not even you are above the law, _Minister_."

All too quickly Trowa found himself practically chasing after Relena as she downed three glasses of water, slipped on a flat pair of shoes and headed out a back door and onto the expansive, moonlit lawns of the Darlian's estate. "Relena, where are you going?"

"We're doing this," she ground out, traipsing across the dewy grass. "The safe's out here." Trowa was navigating through his phone's settings somewhat frantically, attempting to view any cameras installed in the large backyard barn Relena was heading into. Without any hesitation, she turned on some overhead lights and headed behind an old, rickety shelf, throwing a poster-board at him. "Hang that up at the far end, there," she said, gesturing as she started entering the code for the safe.

Trowa jogged to the far end of the barn, breaking out into a cold sweat he knew had nothing to do with the exercise or the alcohol. Relena stood before him, snapping an apparently loaded clip into a midsized handgun and holding it out to him. "Double-check this for me."

Trowa automatically inspected the handgun and lowered it again. "We should really be more sober," he insisted as she took the loaded handgun out of his hand. "Wait," he said, "seriously. If this is how you end up dead, Heero will-"

Relena chose her stance and fired 6 rapid shots into the target at the far end of the barn, grimacing as she lowered the gun and turned back to look at Trowa.

"When the hell did you learn to shoot like _that?_ "

"It's not important, anymore," Relena murmured, disengaging the clip and removing it. Trowa's prompting gaze made her sigh and continue. "I thought I wanted to kill someone, once. I learned how to shoot and I tried to kill them." Trowa reached out to take the parts from her, willing his hands not to shake.

"I couldn't do it," she admitted quietly. "A lot of people think I just hate _war_ for the sake of it… but I know what goes through- well, I know what went through _my_ mind when I had her in my sights. It changes you," she said, looking to him as though for confirmation. "I don't want anyone to have to feel that way. As angry and helpless as I felt... " Relena drew a heavy breath and sighed it out. "All I could think of after that was how you and so many others were willing to take on that kind of… pain, and _doubt_ … even if you didn't know people you were killing, it could never have been easy. It should never have been easy."

The two stood in silence a while, Trowa still processing what Relena had admitted. She was the one to break the silence again. "Why did you really come here?" She gave him a quiet, careful smile. "I mean, they have plenty of staff who could have strong-armed me into shooting a target... eventually. How's it gone on this long that we not only haven't met, but that you'd come here now?"

It was the question he'd been anticipating all evening; Relena was known among her friends and colleagues as a 'no time for bullshit' negotiator. "Heero asked me to." Trowa figured truth was his best bet, but realized his mistake as he watched her mood and countenance fall.

"I see," she murmured, gazing down at her shoes. "Even he's too afraid of me to show up here himself?"

"You seem to have this idea that people are afraid of _you_ ," he began, "but you know that 'Vice Minister Darlian' isn't _you_." Relena cocked her head at him quizzically; the booze had obviously taken effect and Trowa felt himself rambling. "What I mean is, he's not- nobody's afraid of you, as you are… just like nobody's afraid of me, as I am."

"I'm trying here, Trowa, but really-"

He held up his hands. "Wait, I… what I'm trying to say is people are afraid of who they think you are. If you play into that, of course they'll keep thinking you're just 'Minister Darlian'. So why play into it?" Trowa watched Relena mull over the information quietly. "I mean, if you just act like yourself, people are going to like or dislike you the same as they would anyone else."

Relena let her eyes meander over the wall behind him before finally meeting his. She smiled, her posture straightening and she jogged back to fetch her target sheet.

"So," the blonde woman said, her voice suddenly more upbeat, "you can take this in to Preventer and that will be the end of it?" Relena handed him the large poster awkwardly.

"The end of your team being so scared of you?" he asked, examining the perfect shot pattern on the silhouetted man. "With marksmanship like this, I doubt it. Might just make it worse."

Relena smiled, nodding. "I guess now I know how I can deal with that. And what about you?"

Trowa leaned back against the safe and crossed his arms. "Does Heero know you can do this?"

"I seriously doubt it… he's never asked me and I don't exactly go advertising it…" She trailed off, turning away from her company. "We don't really talk much, anymore, anyway."

"Well, I mostly came here as a favour to him," he finally said, rolling up the target sheet, " _and_ to find out how you managed to do to him…. Whatever it is you did." Relena gave another pained look and turned away. "You should talk to him, you know. He's always told me to act on my emotions, but he's pretty classically terrible at it."

Relena laughed again, glaring back at him bitterly. "The only advice he's ever given me was 'Don't chase'," she glowered. "Apparently making myself too available just 'isn't something a good Minister would do'."

Trowa shrugged. "Maybe it's just time to do what Relena Darlian would do then?"


End file.
